Friday, October 5, 2012

It
had been a while since I had set foot into a ballet performance. Yet, last
night, I ended my fast and attended a performance at my church by the Ballet
Magnificent. Words are hardly sufficient to explain the beauty that was beheld
in on that dark stage, but only words can paint the picture of my thoughts and
dreams as I watched the dancers twirl onstage.

The lights went low, the music began to
swell, and the dancers entered. They were a vision, wrapped in a cloud of tulle
that shimmered in the spotlights. When they leapt into the air, the tulle
surrounded their legs like a soft cloud and I could imagine them rising up into
the heavens with their arms outstretched and their toes pointed.

I don’t remember the exact moment but soon I
was up on stage amid the dancers. I could still feel the rough fabric that
stretched over my seat; I could touch the cool marble floor with my bare feet.
But my spirit, my heart, had joined the dance.

It was a feeling like no other. Standing
completely still, imagining myself as a statue in the White Witch’s garden in
Narnia. And then, as the music rose, I followed suit, pointing my toes and
lifting my arms. Then, the leap. I could almost feel the muscles in my legs
clench. I could taste the cool breeze that drifted past my face. Violets,
speckled in a warm meadow. If that had a taste, it would be in the air during
every leap.

My emotions moved with the dance. I felt the
terror of nervousness. The clenching in my legs and arms, the sweat beading on
my upper lip. And then the exhilaration. It was like no feeling in the world. I
spun, soared, leapt, flew all from my seat feet away.

I was truly caught in the movement. To
watch nameless figures spin in unison, watch their feet point in the air, watch
their arms reach out into midair was captivating.

Ballet is a dance of inspiration. It is
imagination illustrated with the body. It is a vision of creativity. It is a
demonstration of boundless limits. It is an ultimate fusion of mind and heart.
It is remarkable, beautiful, magnificent, and truly captivating.

Thursday, October 4, 2012

It was the day after our school wide service project. Our
senior class had just returned from a day of hard work in the sun and was
eating a well-earned lunch. I was sitting at a table, laughing with my friends
until a woman stopped my happiness with a few short words. Through a blur of
tears, I wrote this poem for her and for anyone plagued with anger. Stay
strong!

Stress is studying for an AP Physics test. Those Newton Laws…impossible.
Why are there so many forces in the world? Why does gravity exist? Yes, I
understand that life would be a little awkward without gravity, but doesn’t
stress make you illogical? Where do you think that crazy idea about osmosis
came from? I bet some college student was super stressed about his midterms and
he decided to put all of his notes underneath is pillow hoping that the words
would seep in through his brain. I wonder if that worked?

Yellow. If
stress were a color it would be the darkest yellow imaginable, the yellow of
knowledge and practicality edging its way into the red tide of anger. If stress
was edible, it would be a jawbreaker. The huge kind. The kind you stick in your
mouth and can’t move your jaw for at least seventeen hours because it gets
stuck underneath your teeth. If stress was a scent, it would give off slight
wisps of smoke. Wisps that remains underneath your nose no matter how many
times you spin around with the Febreeze bottle.

I’ve heard
rumors that when you are really stressed your head will pop off. I’ve even seen
drawings depicting that. I wonder how many times a person’s head can pop off
before death. If it is less than two, the government needs to start submitting
some Public Service Announcements about stress remover. Hmmm, stress
remover…maybe I should invent that. I could make millions.

To take a
more helpful turn, this is how I would turn the yellow, smoky, jawbreaker of
stress into tranquility. I usually go and take a walk. The hardest part of that
is forcing yourself away from your notes and convincing yourself to see the
sunlight. Once I’m outside I bring out my bubbles and blow them all over my
back yard while singing Disney songs. It is the best stress reliever that is
out there. Reading a book has the same effect, though it might take longer for
the tranquility to set in. An alternative approach is to travel to the beach…or
to Germany.
Caution: this endeavor might take many hours and cost more money than you are
willing to spend.

The good
thing about stress is that it is curable. I think...well, ninety-nine percent
of the time it is curable. It might take months or years but it will wear off.
However, if your stress is lasting more than a couple of hours, then it means
that you got too much to eat. What does that mean? Well, when you look at the
vast buffet of extra-curricular activities, you filled up your plate to quickly
and food is spilling off the edges. I understand, I am in that stress moment
right now. I have an internship twice a week, I am directing two ten minute
pieces for a talent show in November, I am a section editor in my Yearbook
class, and I am an actor in a church drama. Not to mention being in four AP
class and being president of the Drama Club. Am I complaining? No! I love
everything I’m doing right now, but it’s really easy for things to fall off the
edges of my plate.

So, for
this month of October…yummy, smoky, yellow jawbreakers. All month long. Fun!

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

I have read countless statistics stating that laughter is a wonderful medicine. I certainly agree. And though in the blog post I will neither be discussing the psychological effects of laughter, nor writing a personal narrative about laughter, I have written a seasonal short play that I *hope* lets you take some laughter medicine.

HoHoHolloween

Scene 1

[Santa bursts into the bedroom with his hair mussed, his
shirt unbuttoned, and his tie hanging off of his neck]

Santa: Shirley? Shirley?

Shirley [exasperated]: What do you want? Don’t you realize
that I have over 1200 emails to sort through? You think being Santa’s wife is
all milk and cookies…but it’s not. Why do all the children have to write to you
anyway? It’s October! The only person they should be writing to is their Great
Aunt Marge begging for candy or whatever people beg for on Halloween.

Santa: Halloween! That’s what I wanted to talk to you about!
Halloween is tomorrow!! Our costumes came in yesterday and Binky the elf has
spent nine hours steam pressing them with warm gingerbread men!

Shirley: You were serious about dressing up for Halloween?

Santa: Uh, duh. We’re going to be Snow White and Prince
Charming. And half of the elves are working on costumes for the reindeer. They’re
going to be dwarves!

Shirley [sighs]: Santa…I’m not going.

Santa [chocked]: Not going!! But…but…but, who’s going to be
Snow White? We can’t have the Prince and the Seven Dwarves, that wouldn’t look
right!

Shirley: I don’t care! I’m not going! Why don’t you be Snow
White or something!

Santa [muttering]: Me be Snow White! Of all the
preposterous, newfangled…. [exits]

Scene 2:

[Santa is in his room squeezing himself into a Snow White
costume; the reindeer are surrounding him all dressed like dwarves; Rudolph—who
is dressed as Dopey—is eating his hat]

Scene 3:

[Santa is walking through a neighborhood with the reindeer
trialing him; children are pointing and staring]

[Child dressed as the Pillsbury doughboy is standing in
front of a house trick-or-treating ]

Santa [excitedly]: Frosty?!!? Frosty? You’re alive!! [runs
to hug the child]. I though that you melted, but here you are! I can’t believe
it!!

Child:What. Are. You
doing old man. I have pepper spray and I’m not afraid to use it!

Santa: Pepper spray? Oh, Shirley uses that all the time. It really
gives our home a festive scent.

Child: Pepper spray. Not peppermint spray! Gosh! I’ve had
enough of these old men doing the MOST! [storms off]

Santa: Darn Wal-Mart, always making abominations of every
darn thing I create.

[Santa goes house to house trick-or-treating; he gets turned
away by most everyone]

[Santa stands in line behind a little kid dressed as the
Hulk]

Santa [taps kid on the shoulder]: Mr. Grinch, I hope you’re
ashamed of your self. You already ruined Christmas for those poor Whos. Now you’re
going to ruin Halloween for this neighborhood. You are a mean, despicable,
being.

[Child starts crying, Mom picks him up]

Mom: Who do you think you are? Dressed like Snow White and
telling my five-year-old that he’s despicable. You need to leave…now. [Raises
an umbrella]

[women from around the neighborhood come at Santa with
raised umbrellas]

Santa [backing away slowly]: On Happy and Sneezy and Grumpy
and Dopey, on Doc and Bashful and Sleepy and Rudolph! Now dash away all. [Runs
down the street]

Scene 4

Shirley: So, how was Halloween this year?

Santa [still rubbing of make-up]; You know Shirley, I think I’m
getting to old to trick-or-treat. Maybe next year I’ll kick back with a box of
candy and watch this mystical sport called football. I heard the Southerners live
by it.

About Me

Hi! My name is AnnaBeth Crittenden. I am so excited to begin blogging and sharing my writing with the world. As you can probably tell, I love to write! Lesser know facts: I love anything Disney or Starkid, I am an avid reader, and I am a tad bit obssesed with Pintrest. Thank you for visting my blog and thank you for peeking into the looking-glass of my life.